by T. E. Hodden
“Emily? She was hurt.”
I am sorry. He killed her.
“Corvus. He took her.”
Yes. Maysan's thoughts were full of dark clouds and lightning. There at least we have a chance. They do not intend to kill her. They intend to question her. They think she knows something about a weapon your father...obtained.
“Then I have time to save her.” I sat up. I was still on the kitchen table. I tried to stand, and stumbled. I steadied myself and found my feet. “I just need a moment.”
I blinked. Maysan's presence was still a blur on the edge of my vision. Her veils and gowns shifted ethereally out of focus.
You spoke of Cydal?
“I dreamt of her,” I admitted. “She asked me too.”
You dreamt with her? Maysan swept closer to me. You are fond of her?
“Yes.”
You wish to know her better?
“She has been a friend to me,” I managed to stand on my feet without wavering. “I hope I am a friend to her.”
You are full of surprises. You do realise some would frown upon that?
“I did not think it was anybody else's business.” I touched the markings on my wrist. “I offered my service to your people Maysan, and I offer it freely, but my life is my own to do with as I please.”
She put a hand on my shoulder. And what is it you wish to do with your life today, Robert?
“I am going to find the bastard who took my sister.” I checked my knife. “I am probably going to kill him. It might not stick, but I bet it is going to give him a really bad day.”
*
They say you can buy anything in the Twilight Market, if you could find a corner dark enough. I walked directly to the deepest, darkest, corner. It was a bar called the Abyss. The crowd heaved through the smoke. Each of the squat tables was covered in drinks, and held a hookah pipe. I could feel a legion of nervous looks on me.
Hanzan was a permanent resident in the farthest corner of the bar. His body was gnarled and ancient, like tree roots, beneath ancient bandages and body wrapping. A carved wooden mask, portraying the face he had known in life, was fixed over his leather skull. Heavy robes hung over his mummified body.
I pushed my way between the two werewolves that guarded the table, and sat myself before Hanzan, at his table. He leant over at me.
“Have you taken leave of your senses?” Hanzan snarled the words. “How dare you just barge your way in here?”
“Brazenly.” I took out my knife and rested the tip on the table top. “I want to discuss Assassins.”
“What you want,” Hanzan said, sharply, “Is to put that knife away before you call the Golem down upon us.”
“Oh?” I let the blade catch fire. “Then why would you need the wolves? I get the feeling you are the kind of man who likes his conversations to remain private, especially as the rumours I keep hearing are that those deals are not always in the spirit of the few rules that govern this sanctuary.”
Hanzan snorted.
“Somebody from within the Autumn Court, hired an Assassin, a Thrice Dead Man,” I said, my tone glacial. “The Thrice Dead Man has a lair somewhere in London. A hide out. Where?”
“And why, pray tell, do you think I should share such valuable information?” Hanzan asked, his tone light and conversational.
“You should tell me,” I said evenly, “Because at the moment my concern is with finding the Thrice Dead Man as soon as possible. If you tell me, I will rush off to deliver all my trouble to their door. I will rush off before I take it upon myself to rip apart your operations, and burn them to the ground in search of the information I need. I might not even mention you in my reports, let alone that you are vulnerable in your blind spot from the Golem.”
He shrank back.
“Well?” I asked.
*
I hurried through the cemetery to the black marble crypt, and descended the narrow steps. There was an unnatural stillness in the small chamber, as I crouched by the alcove in the far wall. There was a faint breeze from the cracks between the solid stone. I slid the blade into the crack, and felt the buzz of spells. I flexed my mind to pick apart the enchantments. The wall slid open, revealing the Forge, a hidden space of rusting metal, dangling chains, and dripping water.
Maysan lingered on the fringes of my mind without manifesting, as I crept into the chasm of walkways and iron platforms. I moved slowly and quietly, on light toes. I paused, at the top of a stairway.
The Assassin stood at the bottom of the stairs, his back to me, and his arms folded. He was watching as a portly, hefty, man with a purple face and white hair, draped in courtly robes, marched in circles around Corvus.
She was on a rough chair, bound at the wrists and ankles, by lengths of thin twine bound many times, so tightly that it ripped at her skin. Her eyes were wide and wild.
“I don't understand,” she gasped. “Please. I don't know what it is.”
“The Wraitheart is a weapon.” The Courtly man tapped his chin in thought. “Your father had it, I want it, and you...”
He placed a hand over her face. There was a pulse of magic in the air.
Corvus screamed. Her body hunched and writhed.
“I do not wish to do this.” The man chided her. “Whatever your nightmares, it brings me no joy to expose you to them, but if you will not tell me where the Wraitheart is, what alternative do I have?”
He loosened his grip on her face a little.
“I don't know! I don't know!” Corvus sobbed
“You have been bequeathed it.” The man cocked his head. “Your father left you the weapon. Where is it.”
“I don't know!” Corvus begged. “He never told me of a weapon, or a location, or...”
“But you know!” The man straightened. “You will tell me.”
I moved as quickly as I could. My sudden burst of speed made me feel sick, but I swallowed it back, and tightened my grip on my knife. The Assassin heard me too late, and was still turning to see me, as my blade punched into his head. I let go of all my restraints, everything I kept under control. My rage poured from me as an inferno. The Assassin tried to scream, but what hot flames feasted on the magic that infused his form, and rendered his tissue to ash, exposing the charred bones beneath.
I snatched the blade away, and his bones shattered on the platform.
“There.” I looked up at the man. “That should take him a little while. Please drop your knife, and kindly put your hands behind your head.”
“I hardly think so!” The man straightened his robes. “May! Call off this dog of yours.”
If he ever expected his pomposity to slow me, he would be forever disappointed. I kicked him in the groin so hard both his feet left the floor, and he dropped his knife. He landed on his knees, gasping for air. I kicked his knife away, and cut Corvus free.
“My Lady,” I whispered, helping her up.
She grabbed me in a hug. “Robert?”
I nodded. “Can you walk?”
She pushed me aside and took a few staggering steps to the man on the floor. She flexed her wrist, wincing with pain. The sword materialised in her hand, the blade shaking. “Braccus!”
The man looked up at her.
“How could you?” She spat.
“It was the rats, wasn't it?” He shook his head. “You never got over that childish little-”
“They died because of you!” Corvus spat the words. “Good people are dead. Because of you.”
“Earthworms.” Braccus chuckled. “They are of no importance. Many more are going to die, dear little niece of mine, before this war is over.”
“Of no importance?” I asked.
“Oh shut up!” Braccus glared at me. “You are a mistake of the loins, with no authority. I will not answer to you. I will be treated with the dignity and respect I deserve.”
“You are being treated with the respect you deserve,” I warned him. “How are all these people going to die?”
“Screaming!” He cho
rtled. “Screaming, and begging for mercy.”
“Answer his question,” Corvus demanded.
“Or what?” Braccus spat. “What is it you think will happen to me Corvus? You may have chosen duty over family, but I... I will be carried aloft by the oncoming tidal wave that smashes down on you and this little world.”
“Answer his question!” Corvus snapped.
“War.” Braccus looked at me. “The Empire is stagnant and weak. It has lost the influence, and watered down the values, that made it great. With the Wraitheart we will bring it back. Stronger, and richer. We will take the throne, and we will take the empire, and we will win it this world, and all the riches hoarded here.”
“And where is this Wraitheart?” I whispered.
Braccus stared at Corvus.
“So... Without it you are nothing.” Corvus flexed her grip. “And you will die as nothing.”
“Corvus...” I warned her.
“I should kill him for this. For the nightmares, the pain, he gave me. For the blood on his hands. He is one of them.” She stared at me. “He wanted me to be one of them. He lied to me about you, he tried to make me hate this world. His people unleashed the Kyllan and the Assassin. If I had not seen this world with my own eyes, and if I had not known you, I could have believed every word this miserable maggot said. I could have believed you, or your friend, or that boyfriend, deserved to die.”
“Oh spare me!” Braccus snorted.
What is it you want, Corvus? Maysan asked, as she wove herself from the shadows.
“Not this.” Corvus drew the sword away. “Father would not forgive me for this. I will take him back to the Court. He can answer to the Empress.”
*
I descended the steps to the Fleet. Franja put down her book and hopped to her feet, a smile brightening her face, as she saw my carrier bag.
“Robert! I am glad you are here! My sister said that the next time you called on us I was to ask you for a toy-”
“I know.” I showed her the toy dog from my bag. It was the wooden kind on wheels, with a string lead.
“Oh!” She giggled.
“And these are for you, My Lady,” I said, showing her some paperbacks.
“I see.” Her eyes narrowed. “Who are you looking for?”
“Nobody.” I held up my hands. “I was simply wondering if your sister would accept visitors.”
“Not without a good reason,” Franja answered gently.
“I have to break a promise to her, and I would rather tell her the reasons face to face.”
Franja closed her eyes. She smiled. “She will see you, if you are willing to risk the chance.”
“I am.”
“And your message will be worth this risk?” Franja raised an eyebrow.
“I hope so.” I lay in the water. “I am at her mercy.”
Franja pushed me down into the depths and water filled my lungs.
I found myself in the candy coloured living room.
“You are a fool,” Cylder sighed.
“Then you should have refused me, My Lady,” I said, sitting up.
“What is worth risking your life to tell me?” She snapped.
“I want to dream with you again.”
“Oh.” The words shook her. “I tried to warn you there were dangers to that. Let somebody to your dreams and-”
“You will know my heart?” I let her sit me on the couch. “My Lady Cylder, I have to leave. I made a promise, and if the only way to keep it is to let you see my heart, then my heart is open to you if you ever wish to look. I am pretty sure it is going to belong to you anyway, as a friend, or as...” I stopped. “I see no reason to hide it from you.”
Cylder smiled. “You risked your life to tell me you are falling in love with me?”
“You already knew that.” I held her hand. “I came to say goodbye, to invite you to my dreams if you feel the same, and... to let you know I will be back to keep my promise properly. They were worth the risk.”
“I would not forgive myself, if I lost you for a few words,” she said, gently. Her glow was golden and honey. “Oh. All these years, and every time I teeter and fall, it always feels like the first, doesn't it?”
“My Lady is falling for me?” I spluttered.
She leant forwards, her fingers on my cheek. There was a kiss, as delicate as dawn light, and full of promises. Her eyes were shining. I flushed.
“You have to go to the Autumn Court?” She whispered, her lips brushing mine.
“We found the man behind the trouble. He is part of something so much bigger. I must do my part to see the threat is investigated.”
“May I ask something of you?”
“My Lady?”
“Promise you will come home, so you can see me here, again.”
“I will do my level best not to be killed.” I stroked my chin. “Or to disgust you so much with my dreams as to drive you away.”
She kissed my forehead. “I am older than the fossils, Robert. Do you really think there is anything you can imagine, I have not seen? There is little in the world left to disgust me. If sleep ever finds you, dream of me. Please?” She put a hand to my cheek. “Your heart is too full of grief, pain, and loss, to face the world alone.”
I felt my time with her running out. We made every second stretch as far as we could.
Homecoming (part one)
I stood on the edge of the balcony, in the Forum building, and leant against the balustrade, watching the sun lumber slowly above the mountains, into an alien sky. Spiremouth was a city that clung to the steep sides of the valley, with palaces on the peaks, and a maze of streets that grew denser as they approached the thick river at the base of the valley. The many plazas and squares were watched over by giant statues, and the rooftops were infested with gargoyles.
Are you ready? Maysan asked, at my shoulder.
“Yes.” I looked at her, and smiled. It felt odd seeing her in clear focus, resplendent in her robes, buried deep under her loose hood and veils. “Corvus is giving her evidence?”
She has just finished. She faced the past bravely, and spoke truthfully, now she is with Ashel, her mother, amongst the Forum. They will call you next. Maysan tugged at the lapel of my grey suit, and considered me a moment. I should have found you robes, but others would not have liked it. Better you face them as yourself.
I nodded.
Three guards approached, wearing silver armour over purple robes. They carried halberds, and wore heavy pistols at their side.
“You are Fawn?” One of them asked.
I nodded. “I am.”
“The Empress will hear your evidence against Lord Braccus, now.” The guard gestured I should follow them.
My heart hammered in my chest as I was ushered into the Hearing Chamber, a vast circular room, with stepped benches full of knights and nobles, all whispering and talking. The Empress and her Council of advisors were sat on a raised platform, in high backed cushioned chairs. She looked like somebody's favourite aunt, with silver hair, rosy cheeks, and big blue eyes. She wore white robes, embroidered and decorated with lace. Her advisors represented the full spectrum of the diverse populations of her Empire.
Braccus stood in the middle of the floor, wearing simple robes the colour of sackcloth. He was contained in a circle of power, his hands behind his back, and a superior smile on his face.
“You are my servant Robert Fawn? My agent in the United Kingdom, on the mortal realm of Earth?” The Empress asked.
“I am, your majesty.” I bowed my head. “How may I be of service?”
“In your own words, tell us of the affair with Braccus, and explain the charges against him,” One of the Council instructed me.
I cleared my throat, and tried to speak as clearly and confidently as I could, telling them everything I knew (but perhaps glancing over a few key details about the Twilight Market, to ensure my sources remained in confidence). My voice wavered as I described how I found Corvus, and the torture I saw her endu
re.
“Well,” The Empress sighed, “There it is, spoken plain and truthfully. Sir Robert, please sit with the Forum.”
“He...” Another of the advisors clucked the words. “Your Majesty, Mister Fawn is not a knight. It was decided he was not of noble line, or birth, during the scandal of-”
“Oh. I see.” The Empress pinched her nose. “Robert, you are evidence that nobility is found in spirit regardless of birth, and have been a faithful servant to the Autumn Court. I decree you a knight of my Court, so you may suffer the benefits, as well as the responsibilities you have already been burdened with. At some point, when my knees can face it, there will have to be some speeches and a waving of a sword, but for now do you think you can manage to sit amongst the Forum and speak up when you think I am wrong?”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
“Good.” She waved for me to go.
I walked up into the Forum, looking for a seat. Corvus was sat with her mother, a fair faced, keen eyed woman with golden leafs woven into her silver hair. They gestured for me to join them. Corvus hugged me a little as I sat beside her.
“Braccus...” The Empress turned to the defendant, an imploring expression on her eyes. “For all the years of trust we shared, years of loyalty and friendship, I offer you one more chance. You have heard the charges against you. Will you offer a plea, or an explanation?”
“No.” Braccus looked at her. “I do not recognise the charges. I do not recognise this Court as that from which an Empire was built, and I do not recognise the authority of your snivelling council. You claim I betrayed the Empire? I say I would have saved it, from the rot that has eaten away everything that made it strong, that made us strong. You say I am to be tried by my peers? I see no peers in this room.”
“What is he doing?” I whispered.
“I don't know.” Corvus muttered, her tone like tempered steel.
“Be careful Braccus,” one of the advisors to the Empress said, his tone stern. “Your fate hangs in the balance.”
“Does it now?” Braccus spoke with a note of triumph in his voice. “And what do I have to fear? Once the enemies of the Empire would be burned out of reality, in the fires of the Loom, but now they are imprisoned and coddled. Once our enemies would be brought to our will, but now we cower behind treaties and accords. Once this forum would be ruled by the Knights of the immortal families, and now... Now it is polluted by the servant races of conquered lands. Once we would have snuffed out a half bred mongrel before he could embarrass us, now we are to call him Sir Robert? Sir Robert the Human? Of House Earthworm perhaps?”
